the real verdict is in

well, to follow up on my last post, i did not go to the store and buy
breakfast supplies, i decided to get back in bed for a "nap", did not
set an alarm, and woke up 90 seconds before bill called and asked
"where was i"... meaning, hopefully 2 blocks away from the theatre in
soho, not still in bed. well, i fucked up on that... i have not
overslept or been late for something in a very long time. it is my
pet peeve. i feel really ashamed on many levels about it. he dragged
himself all the way downtown to meet me and see a show he has already
seen, and i am the schmuck who sleeps in. i hate late people. i hate
late-ness all together. am i really that tired? wow.

so now it is 1:57pm and i should be in soho, with bill, seeing a
show. but no, my lazy ass is still in my pjs, in my room, moping over
pissing the day away. i could scream, or eat a lot.